In the twinkling of an eye, Sirius had disappeared and had been replaced by a shaggy haired black dog. Not that Celesta would have noticed him even if he danced around in front of her naked as the day he was born. She had eyes only for Alison, and her smile was one of intense pride at the success of her protégé.
'Did you listen to the show?' she asked without any preamble.
'Yeah, I did…' replied Alison.
'What did you think of the finished song?' asked Celesta, not bothering to hide her impatience.
'It was good,' said Alison, 'really good…I couldn't believe that was me.'
'I told you that you had talent…anyway, I've been getting calls all evening from journalists. They all want to be the first to get an exclusive interview from you. So far, I haven't made any promises. I haven't even told them where you live, but Alison, I wont be able to hold them off for long. If you want, you can just come along with us when we give our interview. Is that alright?'
Alison had listened to all of this in silence and accepted this proposal gratefully. Celesta then turned her attention to Alison's companions. Oliver she knew, but the other man was a stranger to her. She let her attention linger on the dog sitting at Alison's feet, but then turned her gaze back to Remus. Following her gaze, Alison introduced her to Remus, simply stating that she was an old family friend. Apparently satisfied, she enquired how Oliver's Quidditch was going, and then bid them all goodbye.
Sirius waited a few minutes before reappearing as himself. Speechless with pride, he hugged Alison tightly, and had to be physically pulled away by Remus, who quipped 'Hey, let the rest of us have a go at her, would you?' Then, turning to Oliver, he said, in a stage whisper, 'Honestly, as if being her father gives him special rights!!'
Less than thirty minutes after Celesta had disappeared, there came a knock at the door. Puzzled, Oliver opened the door, and to his delight, saw his entire Quidditch team standing on his front doorstep with girlfriends and other acquaintances in tow. They pushed past Alison and descended on her like a pack of vultures. Jason was the first to get to her, and he pumped her hand up and down in congratulation, not realizing that he was doing more harm than good. It was only when the dog sitting at her feet growled that he let go. Brett was next, but instead of shaking her hand as Jason had, he pulled her into a tight hug. Oliver felt a slight twinge of unease when he saw how comfortable Alison looked in Brett's arms, but pushed it away as firmly as he could. *Alison loves me…she would never be unfaithful*, he thought to himself, *would she?*
The hug and the flash of jealousy on Oliver's face had not gone unnoticed by Sirius or Remus either, and both resolved to talk to Alison about it at a later stage. When Brett pulled away from Alison, he pointed to a dark haired man, standing shyly by the door and said, 'That's Mark.' Alison glanced at him, and when he realized that she was looking at him, he smiled timidly. Before she could say anything more to Brett, though, he was pushed out of the way by Adam, the beater and the joker of the team who thumped her on the back and then, stopped, looked around at the spectators with a comical expression on his face and whispered loudly, 'What exactly am I congratulating you for? Jason never tells me these things!!' He looked most insulted and all the people who heard roared in laughter. Pleased with himself, he waved his wand, and all of a sudden, Alison found herself being pelted with roses that seemed to be coming from somewhere in the ceiling. Adam bowed to his audience and said, 'While I appreciate the flowers, I would appreciate it more if you were to throw money!' On cue, the roses were replaced with golden galleons, and Alison had to take shelter behind Oliver to avoid getting hit on the head. But when one of the galleons hit Adam on the head with a loud *thunk*, he proclaimed in a grand voice, 'Now, now, there's no need to get violent just because the rest of you aren't as talented as me…or as attractive!' As Adam was anything but attractive, the crowd burst into peals of laughter and Adam began to pout and then to Alison's astonishment, tears began to, quite literally, pour down his face. When some of the crowd began to look ashamed of themselves, Adam popped up from where he had been crouching on the floor and hollered, 'Hah! Gotcha!!'
*****
Three hours later, the house was empty save for Oliver, Alison, Remus and Sirius. Remus was in the shower as was Oliver. Normally, Alison would have hopped into the shower with Oliver, but she decided that her father had had enough of a shock for that day. After having cleaned the house, she had come outside to sit on the front steps for a while. Her father was inside making himself a cup of coffee. Alison knew that at any case, she was guaranteed at least half an hour of solitude. So it came as a huge shock to her when a voice hailed her from behind the hedge, a voice that she recognized to be Brett's. His face flushed from the chill night wind, he walked up the driveway and sat down next to her. Alison looked at him expectantly wondering what on earth he was doing there at this time of the night.
'So, what did you think of Mark?' asked Brett, trying not to let his eagerness show.
'He was really nice…funny, handsome, a bit shy though…' replied Alison.
'Yeah, he was really apprehensive about meeting you because you know about…us.'
'Don't worry, tell him I approve of him completely!!'
'Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me.'
'No problem…is that why you came back?? To ask if I liked him?'
'Uhhh…yeah.'
Alison giggled at the sheepish look on Brett's face as he got up to leave and impulsively threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
She watched him leave the way he had come and smiled, unaware of her father standing at the door behind her. When she turned to go back inside, she registered his presence with a jolt. He jerked his head at the living room and without a word, she followed him in. Deliberately avoiding the couch, Sirius sat down in one of the armchairs, and Alison sat down on the floor beside him. Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably and then said, 'Is there anything going on with Brett?'
Shocked by his candor, Alison hesitated, and Sirius immediately assumed the worst. Shaking his head, he started to admonish her, but before he could pick up steam, Alison interrupted 'No, dad, there is NOTHING going on between me and Brett…'
'Then, what was he doing here…what did he mean when he said "you know about…us" '
'He meant…'
'What? What's the big secret?'
'When he said "us", he was talking about himself and his…boyfriend….'
Sirius' mouth fell open in shock and his eyes bulged in disbelief. He shook his head slightly and then said, 'Blimey, I must be getting old, my hearing's deteriorating…I thought you said "his boyfriend"…'
'I did, daddy…Brett's gay. Mark, the guy he introduced to everyone as his best friend, is actually his boyfriend. Brett didn't want me to tell anyone…he didn't want to face the kind of prejudice that goes along with it.'
Sirius let out a long whistle, and muttered, 'Well, it could be worse!'
Alison grinned and said, 'I cant believe you thought I was cheating on Oliver…come to think of it, that's what Oliver thought too…good thing I straightened him out!'
Sirius remembered the flash of jealousy that had crossed Oliver's face when Alison had hugged Brett but thought it best not to bring it up. Oliver had obviously already confronted Alison about this and Sirius could see no reason to dredge up ghosts of the past.
*****
The next morning, Alison was awakened by the sound of Catalina's voice calling to her from the fireplace. Pulling on a dressing gown, she rushed into the living room to find her father in canine form lying on the couch and Remus sitting up groggily on a makeshift bed on the floor. Catalina looked beautiful, her fairy tale features thrown into sharp relief by the flames dancing around her. Alison sat at the end of the couch and looked expectantly at the head suspended in the fire.
'Just thought you might be interested to know that we're giving Witch Weekly an interview today, at three in the afternoon. Would you like to join us?'
'Yeah…yeah, that would be great. Thanks Cat…' squeaked Alison.
'No problem…meet us Witch Weekly headquarters…use the Floo network, they're expecting us,' said Catalina, trying not to smile at Alison's sudden nervousness.
The morning flew by much too fast for Alison. When Oliver heard about the interview, his face creased into a frown. A bit taken aback, Alison asked him what the matter was.
'I cant miss another practice…Jason will flip out. Damn, I wanted us to go through this thing together,' moaned Oliver.
Alison smiled at her boyfriend, and kissed him lightly before saying, 'Well, you cant be there every second if you want to be a Quidditch player! Tell you what, why don't you take Remus and dad to practice and let them watch…I'll go to the interview…ok?'
Oliver looked a little unsure, but Sirius piped up, 'hell, yeah, that's a great idea…I want to see a professional team in action! Besides, Harry threatened to expose me if I didn't get him all of your autographs…'
Alison watched the three of them walk towards the Quidditch pitch and then, all of a sudden, realized that she had to pick out suitable clothes. Trying not to panic about her first public appearance, she tried on all her outfits, but none of them seemed appropriate. She wasn't even sure if she was expected to dress in Muggle clothes. Frustrated, she summoned Celesta through the fireplace and explained her predicament. Celesta suggested that, as she and her two sisters were wearing robes, it might not be a bad idea for Alison to follow their lead. Alison opened her wardrobe and pulled out her limited selection of dress robes. Evidently not satisfied with any of them, Celesta promised to be over in five minutes. And sure enough, five minutes later, Celesta apparated into the living room, with a tasteful red robe slung over her arm. Quickly, Alison pulled them on, and it was as she was doing this that she realized that Celesta was wearing a lot of make up. Surreptitiously, she slid into the bathroom and dabbed a bit of lipstick onto her lips and swiped a stick of eyeliner under her eyes. Satisfied with her appearance, she strolled out of the bathroom and presented herself to Celesta for the final inspection. Much to her relief, Celesta deemed her presentable, though in reality, Alison looked as gorgeous as all three Weird Sisters put together even with the limited make up that she was wearing. Without further delay, the two stepped into the fire one after the other and with a searing flash of green, they were gone.
Alison covered her eyes as she spun round and round in the fireplace and just as she felt that she couldn't take any more, the spinning slowed and she felt herself being shoved out of the grate into a vast room. Celesta stepped out behind her, a great deal more composedly, it must be said. Immediately, flashlights went off in their faces and Alison realized that they were in what seemed to be a vast hall, filled with journalists and cameramen. She put her hands to her eyes to shield them from the bright flashlights that seemed to be going off at regular intervals. Celesta grabbed hold of Alison's arm and led her firmly through the thronging crowd of reporters towards a door at the far end of the hall. As they neared it, it was thrown open by a face that Alison recognized instantly as belonging to the editor of Witch Weekly: Greta Robins. She smiled warmly at the two women standing in front of her and ushered them through into the adjoining room.
The silence that fell, when compared to the roaring of the crowd less than three feet away, was unnatural. This room, unlike the previous, was much more tastefully done. The walls were painted a pale shade of lilac and deep purple armchairs sat near the fireplace. An exquisite rug covered the wood paneled floor. At the sound of the door closing, a woman who had been sitting in one of the armchairs stood up. She smiled warmly at Celesta, but as her gaze wandered to Alison, it faltered slightly. Sensing the woman's uncertainty, Alison thrust her hand forward and said, 'I'm Alison…Alison Adams.'
Taken aback at Alison's spontaneity, she hesitated before smiling and saying, 'What a pleasure to meet you, Alison…my goodness, Celesta told us you were captivatingly beautiful, but I found that hard to believe…until now. My name is Keila Thomas and I shall be conducting this interview, once the other two get here, of course.'
Almost on cue, the door opened and Catalina and Calista walked in. They grinned at the room's occupants and then sat down in the purple armchairs. Greta waited for them all the be seated before she said, 'I'd better get going…I have things to do, people to see…you know how it is…I'll be back in an hour or so.'
After she left, Keila turned to Alison and said, 'I wonder Alison if you would mind terribly if I were to do an individual interview on you…you see, everyone already knows the Weird Sisters, but you are a completely unknown entity.'
Alison hesitated. She wasn't sure she was ready to be interviewed all on her own. Reading her mind, Calista said, 'don't worry about it…you can just say you don't want to answer a question if it seems too personal.'
'Yes, absolutely…' added Keila.
Alison nodded reluctantly and Keila beamed at her. 'I'll do their interview first…it'll only take about five minutes…could you wait?' she asked hopefully.
Again, Alison nodded and then allowed her mind to wander as Keila asked the Weird Sisters what had inspired them to write this song and where they had stumbled across Alison Adams. Alison felt her ears burning as Celesta embellished the details of how they had first met at Hogwarts and how Alison had been spectacular in the competition.
Finally, after ten minutes, Keila wrapped up the interview. To Alison's alarm, the three sisters walked out of the room after bidding her goodbye and promising to contact her later that night. Keila walked back to the couch and settled herself down again, this time opposite Alison. She pulled out an acid green quill, sucked its tip and then placed it on a new piece of parchment. Alison had heard about this quill…it was called a Quick Quotes quill, and it was frequently used by journalists, thus allowing them to converse freely with their guests.
Before either Alison or Keila opened their mouth, the quill began to move across the paper. Transfixed, Alison stared at it, and was startled when Keila asked the first question.
'So Alison, have you had any singing experience in the past…be it concerts or maybe in pubs…' she asked.
'No…I sang a bit with my mother in Durban, but nothing professionally.'
'And where is your mother now?'
'Uh…she passed away some time ago…' Alison voice faltered and Keila grimaced apologetically.
'I'm terribly sorry…Celesta Weird said she first met you at a dance competition at Hogwarts. Tell us about that.'
'Well, it started off as a Muggle Studies project, really, but it turned into a full-blown contest before long. I was in Gryffindor, and we won the competition. It was great.'
'There's a theory that beautiful people are often not very well academically endowed. You, looking the way you do, must have some thoughts on that…did you do well at Hogwarts.'
'Yeah, I did. And that is such a stupid theory…next people will be saying that sportspeople aren't very smart.'
'And that is a sensitive subject for you because…'
'Because I used to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as the chaser, and more importantly, my boyfriend is a professional Quidditch player. No one would call him stupid, he came second in his year at Hogwarts.'
'I think you just dashed a few hundred male hearts the world over with that last statement.'
'What statement?'
'The one about your boyfriend…tell us about him.'
'Well, I'd rather not…our relationship is very special, I don't want it to be tainted by public exposure.'
'Of course…what about your manager? Have you decided on someone yet?'
'No, I actually hadn't thought about it until you mentioned it right now…I'll probably scout around a bit.'
'What about the future? Do you have any plans about an album perhaps?'
'Oh, definitely…I want to be a singer, not just a One-Hit wonder.'
'Who, would you say, are your greatest influences?'
'Well, musically, I don't really have one idol…I like a lot of Muggle music, to tell the truth. But throughout my life, I've always looked up to my father…he's a incredible man. And he sings too. Hell, I think he sings "Hotel California" better than the Eagles.'
'Well then, it's no wonder that you are such an amazing singer…it's in your blood. Thank you so much for your time, Alison, and we hope to see a lot more of you in the near future. Good luck!'
'Thank you, Keila, it has been a pleasure talking to you.'
Keila grinned at her and grabbed the quill off the parchment. She then handed Alison the parchment and said, 'This is the transcript of the interview verbatim…if you want anything removed, please let me know.'
'No, no, it looks just fine. It was great meeting you, Keila.'
Keila led her to the door and the moment the door swung open, all the flashbulbs blinded Alison. Keila slung her arm across Alison shoulder and together they posed for the cameras for a minute or two before Alison dashed towards the fireplace, tossed in the Floo powder, stated her address but not loudly enough to be overheard and then stepped into the fireplace. In a green flash, she was gone and the journalists and cameramen sighed in disappointment.
*****
The next few weeks were peppered with events that incited varying degrees of interest in the people involved. One of the first things to happen was the publishing of the Witch Weekly, which resulted in Alison being flooded with letters from friends at Hogwarts. Alicia, Katie and Angelina sounded tremendously thrilled and promised to listen out for the new song…they explained that they had been neglecting the WWN for a while due to the fact that it was NEWTs year that year for them and all the teachers seemed determined to press their noses to the grindstone. Harry didn't manage to write more than two sentences before breaking into congratulatory speech. Fred and George's letter was, to Alison's amusement, a highly amusing one. It was something called a hologram in Muggle terms and they had simply modified it to work with magic. When Alison opened up the letter, a hologram of Fred and George, in what Alison assumed must have been an underground dungeon, whooping loudly and blowing various instruments that seemed to appear magically before them. They ended quite hastily, though, possibly because the ruckus must have attracted Filch's attention. Hermione sent a letter of her own, one that painted a vivid picture of all the happenings at Hogwarts, including the huge feud between herself and Ron. Alison smiled as she read about that… she had a feeling that the two of them would eventually end up together. Even Cedric and Cho wrote and congratulated her. The first day yielded the most letters, twelve to be precise, and the second day was no better. After a while, Oliver didn't bother to look at the name on the letter…he simply handed it to Alison, a look of resignation on his face.
A week after the interview was published, Oliver's practices began to increase in volume. Jason pushed them all to the limit, and there was, in fact, one incredibly exhausting day, when Oliver was in the air for a little more than thirteen hours. A further four hours was spent that day going over various tactics. When he got home, it took all of Oliver's effort and willpower to drag himself into the bedroom and fall asleep. Alison looked on in alarm, and wondered if, underneath the amicable exterior, Jason was really a ruthless, tyrannical captain who cared about nothing but winning. This fear was completely unfounded, however, and Alison was most relieved when Oliver came home early the next night. After that, the practices were kept down to acceptable level of about ten hours a day. Alison didn't mind this, as she had plenty to do to keep herself occupied. She had yet to find herself a manager, though it was not for lack of offers. In the worst-case scenario, she'd just use the Weird Sisters manager until she found her own. As it was, she had other things on her mind. She was working on a song, but she wanted to do it all herself, from the lyrics to the accompanying music. When Oliver did get home early one night, it was to find Alison sitting in the living room near the hearth, completely surrounded by parchment, and wonder of wonders, a guitar that she had borrowed from Mark. When she looked up and saw him, she sntched up all the pieces of parchment and shoved them under her arm.
'What was that for,' asked Oliver when she returned from the bedroom after having stashed the parchments away somewhere.
'Nothing, it's just a song that I'm working on…'
'Well, why can't I see it, or hear it for that matter?'
'Because it's not done yet, but I promise I'll play it for you once its finished.'
Oliver stalked off into the bedroom, muttering darkly about how even his girlfriend kept secrets from him. In the living room, Alison felt a flutter of guilt at not sharing her work with Oliver and resolved to be much more open from then on. She heard the shower being turned on and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She was walking into the bedroom when the shower was turned off and Oliver came charging out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a fluffy blue towel that was knotted firmly around his waist. He was apparently in a state of great excitement, and without drying himself off, he plopped down onto the bed beside Alison.
'I forgot to tell you earlier…the date for our first league match has been finalized. It's this Monday!'
Alison's heart plummeted into her shoes, but she pasted a smile on her face, and kissed Oliver hard. Despite the now familiar tingle that rushed through her every time she kissed Oliver, she couldn't squash the dread that filled her as she realized that Monday was the day she had booked the recording studio to record her new song. She did some calculations in her head and estimated that it would take her no less than five hours to record the song properly. Quidditch matches, however, tended to start at about ten o'clock in the morning, which meant that if Alison were to start recording at five in the morning, she would be able to make it to Oliver's first professional match. Filled with resolve to do just that, she broke off the kiss and crawled under the covers, leaving Oliver a bit confused as to what she thought she was doing. Winking at him mischievously, she patted the bed beside her and then raised one eyebrow at him suggestively. Getting her drift, Oliver leaned over and ran his fingers through her hair.
'I love you…you know that, don't you?' he whispered in a sultry voice, before lowering his lips to her neck.
*****
Alison had the whole day planned out, right to the last second. Her alarm rang at four thirty in the morning, and she hopped out of bed as quickly and silently as possible. She dressed and showered, and then scribbled a quick note to Oliver, explaining where she was going, all the while assuring him that she would be back in time for the match. She knew that Oliver would be upset, but she also knew that as long as she made the start of the match, he wouldn't make too much of a song and dance about it, or so she hoped. She had tried to move the recording to another day, but every other day for the next two weeks was booked. Once she was ready, she tiptoed back into the bedroom, kissed Oliver goodbye, and then, after doing a quick check to make sure she had everything she needed, she left for the recording studio.
Oliver woke up a good two hours later and instinctively stretched his arms out to touch Alison. When his fingers met nothing but thin air, he sat up and looked about in a bleary eyed sort of way. Before he could press the panic button, however, he saw the note that Alison had stuck to the cupboard door. He rolled out of bed with a grunt and peeled the note off the door.
'Dear Oliver,' it read, 'I have gone to the recording studio to record the new song I've been working on for the past week. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before, but I didn't want to worry you before your big match. Don't worry, I will definitely be there cheering you on today.
I love you.
Alison.'
Oliver tried to control the growing annoyance that was bubbling within him. Perhaps he was being selfish, but he thought it only fair to expect his girlfriend to spend the day with him on the most important day of his life. Once the feeling of frustration subsided, he consoled himself by telling himself that Alison would never miss his match. As he ate breakfast and dressed for a last minute practice session, he kept telling himself that Alison would be there for him. By the time he walked out of the door, he was convinced of it.
*****
Oliver sat in the changing room five minutes before the start of the match, not really listening to what Jason was saying. He couldn't believe hat Alison hadn't arrived yet. He felt so betrayed and didn't try to control the anger that he felt bubbling up within himself. He had lost all hope that Alison would be there. The whistle was blown and the Puddlemere United team charged out onto the field, Oliver bringing up the rear. He looked around the vast stadium, but even though he couldn't see any of the faces in the crowd, he knew instinctively that Alison wasn't there, that she had broken her promise.
He shook his head to remove her face from his mind. Jason had hammered into his head the fact that the Hollyhead Harpies had one of the best offenses in the league and that Oliver would have to be sharp as a whistle to intercept their throws. And sure enough, no sooner had the match started that the Harpies Chasers gained possession of the Quaffle and pelted it at Oliver, several times in succession. To Oliver's credit, rather than letting the anger burning inside him cloud his vision, he channeled it all into punching the Quaffle away with as much force as possible. The Harpies Keeper wasn't quite so lucky. She let in three goals in the first ten minutes, and even from all the way across the pitch, Oliver could see that she was tiring fast of fending off the Quaffle. Oliver had just saved the seventeenth goal so that the score read 60-nil in favor of Puddlemere when Brett plunged towards the ground at breakneck speed. He swerved to avoid a Bludger that had been hit straight at him, but all the while kept his eyes on the golden speck little more than an arm's length away from them. The crowd was on its feet now, cheering wildly and dancing around in the bleachers. It seemed to Oliver that the rest of the players had come to a virtual standstill as they watched Brett's fingers close around the fluttering golden Snitch, just a fraction of a second before the Harpies Seeker's fingers closed on thin air. The match was over, and Oliver punched his fist in the air. Puddlemere United had won by 210 points, a sizeable amount indeed. Brett let out a huge whoop and Jason flew towards him to thump him on the back. The team descended to the ground together, looking for all the world, like a single many armed entity.
Oliver held his breath as he waited for Alison to rush onto the field to congratulate him, to hug him and tell him how proud she was of him, but he waited in vain. All around him, people were celebrating, but with the realization that Alison had missed the whole match, Oliver's jubilation turned to bitterness and rage. He stalked into the changing room, showered quickly and pulled on his clothes. Just as the rest of the team was uncorking a bottle of champagne, Oliver yanked open the door and stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, a complete contrast to the darkness of Oliver's mood.
*****
He pushed open the front door and heard a faint snoring, coming from the bedroom. His face grim, he eased open the bedroom door and found Alison lying on the bed fully dressed. On the way over, he had promised himself that if Alison had a reasonable explanation, he would let the whole thing go, but the thought that she had missed his match because she had been asleep enraged him. He threw his bag across the room, and it hit the wall with a resounding thud. Alison sat up in bed, looking completely disorientated. When she saw Oliver, however, she realized that she had missed his match. Before she could apologize and explain to Oliver what had happened, he slammed the door shut and then whispered, 'I would have thought that you would at least come to the match because it is important to me…but you didn't! You promised me that you would but you didn't. And it's not even as though you were recording. No, No, you missed my match because you had to catch up on your beauty sleep!'
'I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I got back from the recording at 9:30 and thought that I'd close my eyes for a few seconds. I was so sleepy, Oliver…and I, I must have drifted off. I'm sorry!'
'YOU'RE SORRY? ALISON, YOU MISSED THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY OF MY LIFE! I…I feel like I barely know you any more. You're always working on your music. You never tell me things. You never told me that the recording was today…why didn't you tell me? We used to tell each other everything? How did that change? When did that change?'
'And what would you have done if I had told you the recording was today…you would have told me to change the date of the recording…'
'HELL, YEAH! That's exactly what I would have told you!'
'I tried to move it forward, but the studio as booked for the next two weeks!'
'Oh, and I suppose it would have killed you to wait two weeks to record your precious song! You are so selfish! I needed you there today, but your songs are more important that anything, aren't they? They're more important than me!'
Now it was Alison's turn to get angry. She took a deep breath before saying, 'I am NOT going to put my life on hold for you…today was an important day for me, too! I RECORDED MY FIRST SONG…IN CASE YOU DIDN'T REMEMBER. I made this commitment long before you told me that your match was on the same day…I made a commitment I could not break.'
'YOU SHOULD HAVE BROKEN IT…FOR ME!'
'WHAT? WHY IS YOUR CAREER MORE IMPORTANT THAN MINE, OLIVER? BECAUSE YOU'RE A GUY? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT? MALE EGO?'
'No, it's more important because mine is a real career.'
'AND MINE IS NOT? OLIVER, THIS IS MY DREAM, JUST LIKE QUIDDITCH IS YOURS! I can't believe you think my career is a joke, a farce!'
'It's not that…it's just-'
'It is EXACTLY that!'
With that, Alison stalked over to the cupboard, pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt, stuffed them in a bag, and then headed for the door. Oliver stared after her in amazement.
'Where the fck do you think you're going?'
'To dad's…I need to be alone…away from you!' she snapped.
'Fine, fine, leave! See if I care!'
Alison yanked open the door and walked out into the dusk. She was halfway down the road when she disapparated with a loud *pop*. Oliver sank back into the sofa and buried his head in his hands. He had just sent the love of his life back to her father and he felt terrible and guilty for all the things that he had said. Still, his ego prevented him from sending an Owl to Sirius's place, begging Alison to come back.
*****
